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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885749">Self Care Sunday</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastedtofu/pseuds/toastedtofu'>toastedtofu</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Number of Domestic Interactions [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Hunter X Hunter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Aged-Up Character(s), Aged-Up Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck, AlluShi - Freeform, Alluka is a troll, Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Boys Kissing, Budding Love, Christmas Fluff, Crushes, Cuddling &amp; Snuggling, Domestic Fluff, Embarrassed Killua Zoldyck, Embarrassment, M/M, Misunderstandings, New Year's Kiss, Pining, Sibling Bonding, Slow Burn</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-10-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 21:08:44</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>5,687</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26885749</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/toastedtofu/pseuds/toastedtofu</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Gon crashes Killua and Alluka's self care day. Killua is a simp and Alluka is totally okay with third-wheeling if it's Gon. I'm chronically bad at summaries. Rated T for Killua's potty mouth.</p><p>Or-- Killua learns to express himself with some handholding from Alluka. Gon and Killua manage to fall in love.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Gon Freecs/Killua Zoldyck</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>A Number of Domestic Interactions [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1961593</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>75</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">    So, Killua has on an eye mask. It was a face mask specifically made for your eyes. He didn’t even know they made such things. It’s “self-care Sunday” as Alluka had put it, forcing her brother to finally rest after a week's worth of finals. Killua had been up to his eyeballs in work, his nonchalant demeanor thrown out the window as he worked into the wee hours of the morning, cramming and writing paper after paper. An overachiever at heart, he worried himself half to death and had the eye bags to prove it.</p><p class="p1">Alluka had dragged him into her room after his shower, going to work on his neglected skin. She massaged expensive lotion onto his cracked, overworked hands, plucked his eyebrows, toned his pale face, and painted his nails for him. He’d done his toes, himself. Now, their feet are kicked back, and they were chomping on brownies some 'secret admirer' had left her. Poor chump. A terrible rom-com played loudly on the screen as they paged through mindless magazines, strategically critiquing the outfits of current celebrities. Alluka’s hair was pulled into a tight ball full of some hair mask he’d never heard of. Killua had thick pieces of cotton between his toes, stopping the paint from smudging his hard work. He was chewing diligently on his third brownie when the doorbell rang.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">   “I’ll get it!” She said, jumping up. Killua’s toes were still wet, after all. There was a pause as she looked out the peephole. “Actually, it’s for you, Killua,” she called, scuttling away before they could make eye contact. </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">    He swung the door open, not bothering to check who it is, and boy does he regret it because there was Gon Freeccs-- the guy he was sorta kinda seeing, sorta kinda his childhood best friend-- standing on his porch.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">    They’d separated ways a while back, both struggling from mental health issues and unsure of how to articulate that at such a young age. Gon was always someone in the back of Killua’s mind just not someone he bothered reaching out to until they were face to face at university, in the same class no less.</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">    The attraction was poignant from the start, embarrassingly so. They stumbled and mumbled around each other, trying to learn this new friendship; its in outs, colors and numbers. There were years of catching up to do, and Killua worried that they might simply be incompatible at this point in their lives. Boy, was he wrong. After three weeks' worth of studying and flirting, they were practically inseparable. They even scheduled a recurring meeting time for "studying." Killua hadn't met someone he could pour his guts out to and throw carrots at all in the same hour (except Alluka, of course). So, It was only a matter of time before Gon popped the question one Thursday, midsemester:</p><p class="p1">“Would you like to go see a movie?” It was casually said, thrown in between their chatter about lunch and complaints about the most recent homework assignment.</p><p class="p1">    “Uhh, sure,” Killua had responded <em>very</em> gracefully, willing the blush to flood any place other than his ridiculously pale face. Was this a date?</p><p class="p1">   “Cool, I’ll text you. If that’s okay.” Gon tacked on, looking anywhere but at Killua’s face.</p><p class="p1">   “Totally,” Killua croaked out. He would’ve noticed Gon’s nervousness if he’d bothered to even look, which he didn't. “But don’t expect a quick response time. I fucking hate texting.” The next day, Killua texted Gon back at the speed of light. They had been on a few dates since then, nothing substantial. Both were awfully busy, and Gon was a jock for a lack of a better word, funding his tuition through a soccer scholarship. The pace was just right for Killua, as he had overloaded his schedule in an attempt to graduate early.</p><p class="p1">   But, there was the occasional brush of a thigh or a shared smile and they always, always sat together during lectures, passing notes to one another and cute little doodles. One time, Gon had winked at Killua as they made their way into a bar, and Killua shoved him away before sinking his teeth into his own cheek, unable to meet Gon’s eyes for a full three minutes. Super romantic. When their eyes met again, Gon looked mildly concerned. He placed a solid, reassuring hand on Killua’s shoulder, a vaguely tender twinkle in his eye.</p><p class="p1">   “You good?” He asked, earnestly. And no, Killua was not good.</p><p class="p1">      So, to sum it up in the most eloquent way possible, “they were casually sorta kinda maybe seeing each other romantically, but playing it casual” masterfully explained by Alluka Zoldyck, herself. And Killua did not want the guy he was “casually sorta kinda maybe seeing each other romantically, but playing it casual” with to see him in his stupid little twink shorts with his curly little white mop pulled into an awfully, messy ponytail. He didn’t want <em>Gon</em> to see him with his glittery hot pink toes shining proudly in the crisp winter sun. Yet, here he was, a bouquet of flowers in tow and Killua’s ridiculously chocolatey favorite Starbucks drink in hand. He’d even bothered to wear something other than his stupid cargo shorts.</p><p class="p1">    For a moment much too long to possibly be socially acceptable, they simply stared at each other. The silence was sending painful twists to Killua’s gut. He watched Gon take in his form, his eyes trailed down to Killua's shorts (the ones that he would later burn) and the squishy eye mask he’d let Alluka put on him earlier and finally, his gaudy pink toenails.</p><p class="p1">     “Killua,” he said, breaking the prolonged silence. “Hi.” Killua promptly shut the door in his face.</p><p class="p1">   “Jesus fucking christ!” He whispered to himself, clutching his raggedy my little ponies tee shirt where his heart was galloping a mile a minute. He toddled past the foyer, balancing on his heels as he waddled over to Alluka.</p><p class="p1">   “WhyDidn’tYouTellMeItWasGon,” he hissed at his sister who was pink in the face, guffawing loudly on the couch.</p><p class="p1">   “Killua,” she said between peals of laughter. “You told me he was cute, but I didn’t know he looked like <em>that</em>. Why’d you slam the door in his face?”And he did. Killua had just slammed the door in Gon’s face. The sinking feeling in Killua's gut was interrupted by the loud chime of his cellphone, interrupting his slow meltdown. He snatched the phone before Alluka could reach for it, looking at the caller I.D.</p><p class="p1">   “Gon,” he answered, his voice rushed, edged with panic.</p><p class="p1">   “Killua, I can come back if this is a bad time,” he heard Gon say through the speaker.</p><p class="p1">   “No,” Killua blurted out. Fuck. “No, I’ll be out in a minute.” He hung up, turning to face Alluka.</p><p class="p1">   “What do I do?” He hissed at his sister.</p><p class="p1">   “Go talk to him! He has flowers, and it’s cold outside. You have to let him in.”</p><p class="p1">    “I can’t let him in! I look like this.” He said, gesturing to his shirt, littered with holes. He couldn’t even put on pants without ruining his toenails and they had taken forever to paint. Alluka gave another sadistic round of laughter.</p><p class="p1">   “Okay, go change your shirt. Actually, stay right here I’ll go get you one.”</p><p class="p1">   “It’s gonna take more than that for me to stop hating you,” he hissed as she returned with a decent looking shirt. He was currently trying to make his ponytail look less messy in the hallway mirror.</p><p class="p1">   “Yeah, yeah, go fetch your boyfriend before he gets hypothermia. You don’t want him to die, do you?” She said, swiping the goopy mask from under his eyes and patting in the essence after Killua swapped shirts.</p><p class="p1">   Killua didn’t need to be told twice. As soon as she let go of his face, he rushed to the door, swinging it open and welcoming a dangerously frigid gust of air in.</p><p class="p1">   “Gon,” he said, a pathetic smile on his lips. “Come inside.”</p><p class="p1">   “Thanks!” He said, making his way inside their condo, toting the flowers and Starbucks drinks. Killua took his coat. “Sorry I showed up unannounced. I wanted to surprise you and maybe celebrate being done with finals,” he explained, a brilliant smile on his face. “I brought you a drink, but I think it might be cold now. Also, these are for you,” Gon said, handing the bouquet of pink roses to Killua. Killua’s gut twisted painfully. Where does one get pink roses in the dead of winter? Worst of all, it had a note in Gon's chicken scratch handwriting that he would spend all night decoding with Alluka later.</p><p class="p1">   “Gon, this is so sweet of you,” Killua began. His face was redder than Gon’s despite him having to wait in the freezing cold for several minutes. He didn't have to look to know that Alluka peeking around the corner. “Alluka and I were just watching a movie. Do you want to join us?” He said Alluka’s name with more bitterness than was necessary as he led Gon into their messy living room. Or, it was messy. Alluka had the decency to clean up their collection of magazines littering the room and had put their bag of chips into a clean bowl. The brownies sat on a plate.</p><p class="p1">    “Hey, Gon!” Alluka from her seat on the couch. She had set a disgruntled looking Nanika in her lap. The cat eyed Gon lazily before turning her attention back to Alluka.</p><p class="p1">    “Hey Alluka, I brought you some hot chocolate. I didn’t know what you like,” Gon said, setting a drink in her hands.</p><p class="p1">   “This is perfect,” she responded much too enthusiastically for Killua’s liking. “It’s nice to meet you in person, Gon. I've heard a lot about you.” <em>Killua refused to show me an actual picture though. </em>She stuck out her hand, unable to move from her spot now that Nanika had gotten comfortable. Gon shuffled closer to give it a shake. </p><p class="p1">   “It’s nice to meet you, too! And, good things, I hope?” Gon responded with a million-dollar smile-- the one that always made Killua swoon a bit. Killua had monologued at length about that smile along with Gon's brown skin and perfectly chocolate eyes. Killua stepped away to grab napkins from the kitchen and a vase to put the flowers in. Surprisingly, Gon trailed behind him.</p><p class="p1">    “You know,” he said in a slightly hushed tone, “I don’t want to intrude on your bonding time. I could just see you another time.” Gon was leaning against a hand on the counter, standing slightly too close to Killua, causing Killua's head to swim. His head was ducked so meet Killua’s eyes and he looked so genuine and <em>big</em> in their quaint little kitchen, so real. It would be nothing for Killua to stand on his tippy toes and press their lips together gently. The thought was almost too much for him. Gon was in his <em>house</em>. He had bought him <em>roses</em>. No, he’d brought his little sister a drink. He's remembered Killua's favorite drink down to the sprinkles. It was silly, really. Why was he freaking out about this? It was casual, right? Right?? Killua realized he’d stopped talking or breathing for that matter.</p><p class="p1">   “No,” he blurted out for the second time today, possibly the third. “We’re just hanging out. Promise.” Gon looked like he wanted to argue but decided against it.</p><p class="p1">   “Okay,” he said slowly, straightening his back.</p><p class="p1">   They made their way back into the living room, opting to share the only available blanket left on the couch. It forced them to sit too closely, thighs touching under the fluffy warmth. Killua's wet toes poked out from underneath, mortifyingly.</p><p class="p1">   “Sorry I slammed the door on you earlier,” Killua whispered before taking a sip of his drink, letting the chocolate soothe what was left of his panic. The temperature was just right. “You must be freezing.”</p><p class="p1">    “Only a little, but you’re warm enough, so I forgive you,” Gon responded, lifting an arm to throw around Killua’s shoulder. Their eyes met, a silent question that asked ‘is this okay?’ Killua responded by leaning his head against Gon, shuffling closer. His skin tingled where his thighs met Gon's. He hoped Gon wouldn’t notice his cherry red ears. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Alluka wagging her eyebrows at her him. He leaned forward slightly, totally not suspicious at all.</p><p class="p1">   ‘I hate you,’ he mouthed at her.</p><p class="p1">   ‘I know,’ she mouthed back with a giddy smile before turning back to the movie.</p><p class="p2"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Belly Laughs</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>A behind the scenes look at Killua and Alluka's relationship. Is it still Killugon if Gon isn't in the chapter?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>A mini-chapter before we get back to the very weak plot I've outlined.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>    "Gon, this is so sweet of you," Alluka mimicked in a nasally voice as soon as their front door shut for the evening. </p><p>    "<em>What</em>," Killua responded in exasperation, flopping down on the couch. Alluka was annoyed if her expression was anything to go by. </p><p>    "Dude, if I were Gon, I'd be so sad. You slammed the door in his face, and you hardly even said thank you to the guy."</p><p>    "I said 'thank you.'" Hadn't he? He'd meant to anyway. </p><p>    "I just think you're sending him mixed signals. You were so nonchalant and he brought you roses. Pink roses, Killua. That means 'I'm in love with you.'" </p><p>    "<em>You</em> said it was casual!"</p><p>    "I thought it was casual the way you were describing it, but Killua, he totally likes you. Like likes you likes you. You should've seen his face. He looked like would thank you for stomping on his face or something." </p><p>    "Why would he like me if I slammed the door in his face?" Killua swiped a pillow off the couch, pressing it to his chest. It smelled slightly like Gon's cologne. He screamed into the pillow, letting the air rush from his lungs until he was satisfied with the tight feeling of emptiness. Alluka waited for his outburst to subside.</p><p>    "Why wouldn't he like you?" Alluka's tone softened slightly. Her brother was an idiot. A slightly insecure idiot. "Killua, you're the most amazing person I've ever met, but you're gonna hurt both of you guy's feelings if you keep pretending this is some casual fling." Alluka removed the pillow from Killua's grasp gingerly, waiting for Killua to meet her eyes. They were the same stormy blue except Killua's were misty, slightly covered from a puff of white bangs. He looked defeated. Alluka rested her hands on Killua's gently. "Don't you think you deserve this?"</p><p>   Alluka didn't know who she was talking to anymore. She remembers a time when Killua was the only person in the world who told her she mattered, that she was worthy of love. If she needed to remind him of the same thing, she'd gladly do it. But if they were two sides of the same coin, originating from the same sick household, and Killua saw himself as unlovable, didn't that mean she was unlovable too? She hated herself for thinking that way or the way the words "at least our parents gave you the time of day" would cross her mind every once in a while. It was selfish, so very selfish of her to think because she knew first hand that that was not the kind of love she wanted from them. But they always came out of nowhere, leaving her with a punch to the gut. </p><p>    "Alluka," Killua whispered, slightly panicked. "Why are you crying?" Alluka was incapable of words, so she didn't say anything as Killua crawled closer on their worn couch, pulling her into his arms. </p><p>    "I'm sorry," he breathed, unaware of what he was apologizing for. Seeing her tears only made him cry in earnest which made her cry even harder. "I'm really, really sorry, Alluka. Of course, I do. Of course," he whispered, patting her hair gently. He pulled his hand away, looking at the smooth concoction she'd forgotten to wash out. Alluka pulled away, studying his hand. </p><p>   "So much for self-care Sunday," she said sarcastically, looking at his big brother with watery eyes. She looked pitiful with her shiny red nose and pouted lips, attempting to make a lighthearted joke. He knew without seeing it that he was in a similar state. Killua couldn't help but laugh, squeezing her tightly as they chuckled at the weak joke and their own tendency towards tears. It was a hearty laugh, the kind that made your sides ache. The kind of laugh that always followed perfectly after a good cry. </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Why did I write this? Projection maybe with a splash of truth. Did this come out of left field or did it feel appropriate? I don't know.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Brunch Time!</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>I struggled so much with this chapter, so I will probably be doing some heavy editing throughout the week. I just had to stop sitting on it and release it to the world. Idk why posting takes the pressure off :P Anyway, the plot THICKENS.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">         Orange. It’s the first color Killua notices when he wakes, a glowing, haughty apricot color that dares wake him from his dreams. Refusing to acknowledge that the day has begun, he turns, shoving his face into the cool side of the pillow with a groan. His dead limbs are tingling from being stretched, and the world is so silent that he almost misses the sounds of bird chatter. He’s just within the boundaries of sleep again when he remembers that he has obligations for the first time in days, suddenly shooting out of bed to blindly reach for his phone. The growing thunder in his heart dissolves just as quickly as it grew when he notices the time, but it’s quickly replaced with a funny stutter at the thought of seeing Gon today. They’re supposed to have breakfast one last time before Gon leaves for Whale Island to celebrate Christmas with his family, and the thought of having Gon’s attention all to himself again sends a warm flush across Killua’s face. He’d been even busier since the break began, working long hours to pay off his ticket home and back. When he and Killua did hang out, it was always in a group setting with some of Gon’s friends or during Gon’s lunch break. Alluka had started to fix enough portions for Gon whenever she made dinner because, well, she’s just that kind of person. But a thirty-minute lunch break isn't really a lot of time, and Killua finds himself missing their study dates terribly.</p><p class="p1">So, suffice to say, he’s going to make the most of today and contemplates the best way to do so as he showers and dresses. He’s detangling his hair from a stray piercing when he hears the familiar chime of his cellphone. A text from Gon that reads “let’s save our gifts for when we get back! I’ll be there in twenty.” Killua deflates a little at the proposition. He’s not good at picking out gifts, but he’s sort of proud of this one. Having to wait until Gon got back is going to drive Killua up a wall. He is a lot of things, but patient is not one of them. Killua bites back his pout begrudgingly going to Alluka for help with his eyeliner.</p><p class="p1">“Alluka, I’m coming in,” he calls with three raps to the door. When there’s no response, he peeks into her room. It’s dark as night, the only light source coming from the television. It emits a red glow onto Alluka’s skin painting a terrifying image and Killua can barely see her headset poking from underneath her mop of hair. Yikes. Killua slowly closes the door, knowing he’ll have to pry a cranky Alluka from her television later on. Well, if she didn’t pass out from exhaustion before then. Her gamer friends are a terrible influence, and Killua decides that he’s a grown man and can do his own damn eyeliner.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">     The harsh wind of the city nips at Killua’s cheeks as he makes his way to the car, fingers already beginning to numb from the short walk. Gon leans over the console, opening the door for Killua to enter the tiny car. It's almost comical, watching Gon hunch over his steering wheel, but the heat is blasting and it smells like a cinnamon candle and Killua is grateful, so he chooses not to make fun of Gon for what would’ve been the millionth time.</p><p class="p1">     “Killua!” Gon says over the thrum of the heater. He’s all teeth and honey eyes today, and Killua can already feel his fingers beginning to thaw from the warmth of his smile.</p><p class="p1">     “Gon,” Killua responds. Its more of a question than a statement, a silent conversation they often do, just to check-in. It feels better, more real than a “how are you.” Killua can usually tell how Gon is from the dark bags under his eye, the slight twitch of his shoulder, but he tries to ask anyway because he knows they both have a tendency to ignore their own wellbeing and he doesn’t mind reminding Gon on occasion. Killua’s so lost in thought, he doesn’t notice that they’ve pulled off until Gon’s getting a FaceTime call.</p><p class="p1">     “Do you mind answering that for me?” Gon asks, eyes concentrating on the road. Gon is a terrible driver, but he does his best. “Hey ZUSHI,” Gon’s voice thunders through the car, totally different from the way he called Killua’s name earlier. “What can I do for you? Do you need me to pick up something from the grocery store?”</p><p class="p1">      “Actually, no. I need your advice— again,” he tacks on. “Well, I guess it’s more of a rant. Do you mind?”</p><p class="p1">      “I don’t, but Killua’s in the car if <em>you</em> don’t mind.” Gon hopes Zushi will take the bait-- he doesn't.</p><p class="p1">     “Actually, that’s even better. Maybe we need a second opinion on this,” Zushi continues. “Wait, am I interrupting something.”</p><p class="p1">     “No,” Killua blurts out before he can stop himself. He does not need Zushi instigating anything right now. Gon gives him a look out the corner of his eye which Killua pretends not to see.</p><p class="p1">     “Okay… Well, there’s this girl,” Zushi starts, and Killua immediately zones out. He is not up for this heterosexual shit today, but he lets Zushi say his piece and nods along when deemed appropriate. From what he’s vaguely gathered, she’s in the same year as Zushi and apparently is really cute— whatever that means by Zushi’s standards.</p><p class="p1">     “But she’s so hot and cold, Gon,” he hears Zushi whine. “I bake her brownies, she brings me good food, we talk like 24 hours a day, we play video games together, but whenever I ask her to hang out alone, she blows me off. And, now that the semester’s over, we won’t have a class together anymore. I think we’re gonna fizzle out.” This gets Killua’s attention, probably because it hits a little too close to home. Will he and Gon begin to drift apart now that they don’t have an excuse to see each other all the time? But, they’re hanging out now, aren’t they? This girl, whoever she is, is definitely more hot and cold than him, right?</p><p class="p1">     “Wait, what did you say her major was again?” Killua blurts. He and Gon have been sitting outside the cafe for at least ten minutes now, and he can tell that Gon is struggling to find a way to politely end the conversation. The look he gives Killua is half-incredulous, but Killua needs to know.</p><p class="p1">     “She’s majoring in Design. Why?”</p><p class="p1">     “What does she look like, again?” Killua asks, completely ignoring Zushi’s question.</p><p class="p1">     “Ummm, black hair, blue eyes, bangs. Kinda short. What, do you know her or something?”</p><p class="p1">     Gon doesn’t have to look hard to watch the gears churning in Killua’s head, the pinning ears are enough. It's enough for him to put the pieces together as well.</p><p class="p1">     “Wait, Zushi, I’ll call you back,” Gon soothes, ending the call before Zushi can complain. Killua’s back is stiff as a board, hands clenching tightly in his pocket because <em>Alluka</em>. The Alluka who yelled at him for not being forward enough. Alluka who is always telling him to “go for it” and “speak his mind” and <em>ew</em>. He had just listened to Zushi thirst after his <em>little sister</em> for thirty minutes. <em>ZUSHI</em>. Oh god. What if he said something weird about her? Killua would've had to kill him.</p><p class="p1">     “Uh, Killua,” Gon says, interrupting Killua’s string of increasingly violent thoughts. “We don’t have to go inside if you don’t want to.” Killua deflates immediately, regretting his actions because god, he wants to spend time with Gon in his little cinnamon apple car and have breakfast, but Alluka has some explaining to do and he can’t shake the hoard feelings flooding over him. He doesn’t have the chance to make a final decision when his stomach growls embarrassingly loud, interrupting his string of thoughts once again.</p><p class="p1">     “Uh, no it’s okay.” Gon offers him a pitiful smile.</p><p class="p1">     “Let’s get you something to eat,” he says and Killua can’t help but smile back, albeit lined with worry.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">     Killua shoves his hands in his pockets, urging his fingers to thaw. He’s still a little wrapped in his thoughts as they order their food, needing some extra prompting from Gon. He orders hastily, flicking Gon’s hands away when he moves to swipe his card. He’s going to milk his parents like a true trust fund baby.</p><p class="p1">     Gon licks his tongue out, but doesn’t complain, accustomed to Killua’s overeagerness to spend money. He doesn't like it, but doesn't feel like re-hashing the same tired argument. They choose the table next to the automatic fireplace, shoving off coats and gloves with eagerly thawing hands. Gon sighs in relief as calloused palms wrap around the warmth of his coffee mug, and their eyes meet, silvery blue on honey.</p><p class="p1">     “Do you wanna talk about it?” He asks, taking a sip from his mug. His eyes look huge, peeking above the rim of the cup, attentive and open.</p><p class="p1">     “No? I guess?” Gon offers an amused smile. “I just don’t get why she would tell me to—“ Killua cuts himself off. Continuing his sentence would require a load of honesty that he’s not ready for. “I guess I’m not ready to see my little sister grow up,” he corrects himself, knowing Gon will likely ask follow-up questions. “I mean, I know she’s older now and guys are going to express interest in her because she’s <em>Alluka</em>, but I don’t wanna think about it. Especially from someone I know— we know, and she’s being so dodgy about it and that not really like her and I- sorry. I’m rambling aren’t I?”</p><p class="p1">     “No, its fine! Everyone does, right? Besides, change is hard. Maybe Alluka is afraid,” Gon offers. Sometimes it’s hard to believe this is the same 12 year old, reckless boy that Killua used to know.</p><p class="p1">     “Do all of your friends complain to you like this?” Gon’s smile falters slightly.</p><p class="p1">     “I guess so. Don’t yours?” Gon asks, earnest. Killua laughs at that. His only other friends are Kurapika and Leorio. Pika doesn’t bother to complain about anything, and Leorio complains to anyone who will listen. Killua just doesn’t listen is all.</p><p class="p1">     “Nope, not besides RioLeo” he says, popping the “p.” He doesn’t feel like explaining that he hardly has any friends outside their pasted together group, even though he’s pretty sure Gon knows that already. Gon laughs knowingly.</p><p class="p1">     “Well, I dunno. I am just the designated person for that kinda stuff, I guess,” Gon says, taking a sip of his drink, a quiet hum buzzing on his lips.</p><p class="p1">     “So, who do you complain to?” Killua asks, partially out of curiosity, but also with the desire to know who else Gon might be close to.</p><p class="p1">     “Well,” he begins, “Sometimes I talk to my Aunt Mito, but I try not to worry her too much. I think I’ve scarred her enough for one lifetime. There's also my therapist, but that's a little different.”</p><p class="p1">     Killua can’t stop his eyes from flickering up to the tiny scar situated to the left on Gon’s widow’s peak. A permanent scare from the time Gon ran away as a kid. Killua wasn’t around then, but Gon had explained the whole debacle during one of their many study breaks over the past couple of months. He ran away a lot up until that point, not because he didn’t love Mito and Abe, but because he had a way of blaming himself for everything wrong in their lives. They’d talked about it in-depth, of course, during their slightly charged reunion. Killua distinctly remembers Gon’s insistence that he wouldn’t be putting himself or any of his friends in danger ever again. Killua hadn't thought too hard about it as a kid, eager to do whatever it was Gon put him up to. Thinking about it now made him feel nostalgic but weary. Memories always age in pinks and oranges compared to the ones he had of his family, but he knows better than to look at his youth with rose-colored lenses. Now, it’s Killua’s turn to smile sympathetically. Maybe it’s selfish, but he knows Gon will smile back, and then maybe he won’t look so forlorn.</p><p class="p1">     “You can always talk to me, you know Gon. You kinda do, sometimes, but I wouldn't mind it if you didn’t more, I mean,” he mumbles. The tea sitting in Killua’s hands look so interesting suddenly. Warm brown hands wrap around his own, cushioning the mug further and Killua’s chest seizes comfortably. His smile is bright, brighter than the apricot light of the morning, brighter than the snow lightly dusting the streets.</p><p class="p1">     “You mean it, Killua?”</p><p class="p1">     “Of course, dumb ass. I wouldn’t have said it if I didn’t mean it,” he grumbles. Killua doesn’t realize that he’s staring until he hears his order number being called, whisking him back to the real world. “Oh, that’s me,” he says dumbly, rising from his seat. Gon’s food is ready shortly after, and Gon manages to bully Killua into trying a vegetarian sausage. Much to his surprise, it’s not half bad, but certainly not enough to convert him.</p><p class="p1">     “Once I’m done with soccer, I’m giving up meat,” Gon pledges between bites of food, cheeks puffed with bites of waffle.</p><p class="p1">     “I’ll believe it when I see it,” Killua snarks. “I’ve seen how you react to a plate of Alluka’s lasagna.”</p><p class="p1">     “Oh no, I forgot about Alluka’s lasagna,” Gon groans, bottom lip jutting out playfully. “But actually though, it’s so <em>good</em>.” Killua can’t help but laugh at Gon’s obsession with Alluka’s food. It is, in fact, not that good. </p><p class="p1">     “I’ll tell her to make you some Christmas, then,” he promises, shoving more chocolate pancake into his mouth.</p><p class="p1">     “That would make me and my stomach very happy,” Gon says, mouth full of sausage.</p>
<hr/><p class="p1">     They chat about Whale Island the entire way back to Killua’s. Well, Gon does most of the talking. Killua’s just happy to listen, plus, it gives him the opportunity to observe and take in the details of Gon’s face before he departs. The drive back to Killua’s home, however, is much shorter than the trip to the cafe for some reason. They linger in the warmth of the car, listening to snowfall silently as the sun paints milky shades across the sky. The silence is thicker, thicker than usual, and coated in the smell of cinnamon. Gon sighs almost imperceptibly, finally opening his door and stepping into the cold. He tilts his head, a gesture for Killua to follow. They walk shoulder to shoulder, footsteps synced as they move closer towards that wooden door that now taunts Killua. There's a sense of finality as they land on the last of the stone stairs, hands shoved into pockets that do very little against the harshness of the cold.</p><p class="p1">     “I hope it's warmer on whale island than it is here,” Killua offers, breaking through the silence of the evening.</p><p class="p1">     “Yeah, it’ll be nice to get away from the cold,” Gon hesitates, “but I’ll miss everyone, especially you. What will you do with your time since you won’t have me to entertain you?” Gon asks, head ducked ever so slightly. It’s so cold, his breath leaves shorts puffs of condensation floating through the air and his nose is dusted red under ochre-colored skin. Killua’s own breath catches at Gon’s announcement, placed ever so casually between the list of things he’s just said. He recognizes that he’s taking too long to answer, but the electricity buzzing beneath his skin slows his movements, his normally sharp tongue laid to rest.</p><p class="p1">     “Whatever, I have other friends besides you,” Killua scoffs, nose pointed in the air, hoping Gon will chalk his flush up to the cold weather. “But it is nice having you around, I guess.” Gon laughs as if this is the funniest thing Killua has ever said, and he truly hopes that isn’t the case. The thick silence follows with a vengeance, tying Killua’s stomach into knots because he’s not sure what to expect for their parting. If Alluka is right, he and Gon are no longer so casual but are they not-casual enough to warrant the fluttering feelings blooming inside his chest. Gon’s persistent lingering would say yes, right? He's standing just slightly too close to Killua, head ducked just enough for Killua to reach and before Killua knows it, he is reaching, lips slightly parted, hot wires thrumming under his skin. His sister’s advice crosses his mind fleetingly as he leans forward, propelled forward by the heels of his feet lifting from the pavement. And just as he feels that their lips might connect, seeing on instinct alone, Gon clears his throat loudly, sewing Killua’s feet back to the earth with a tiny, painful needle.</p><p class="p1">    "So-so, I should get going. I still have a lot of packing to do,” Gon announces, unnaturally loud, a hand sheepishly mussing his cropped hair.</p><p class="p1">     "R-right." Killua's incredulous, plummeting back to the earth at a barreling speed.</p><p class="p1">     A swelling balloon is slowly replacing the air in Killua’s lungs, but in spite of the building pressure, he manages to squeak out some non-committal assurances that he’ll see Gon on the 28th. He cannot bring himself to meet Gon’s eyes as he mutters a goodbye, groping for the wooden door that once taunted him just minutes ago. Now, he can’t wait to be on the other side of it. His shoes are kicked off blindly. Hands groping along the wall as he feels through the foyer as hot, embarrassed tears ruining his vision. His face is shoved into the pillow decorating the couch as the heavy balloon in his chest finally bursts, leaving him soggy and weak.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>yeah idk. I have nothing to say for myself. The AlluShi no one asked for.</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I once had a professor from Canada who wore shorts year-round. Gon gives off that type of chaotic energy.</p><p>Anyway, I'm procrastinating again. Cheers.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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